


In the Business of Acquisitions, the Sights Are Set On You

by augopher, captaintinymite (augopher)



Series: Better To Reign In Hell... [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hell, Alternate Universe - Historical, Assisted Suicide, Demons, Drowning, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Pre-Relationship, Topielec!Stiles, photo manips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-17 14:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3532586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/augopher/pseuds/augopher, https://archiveofourown.org/users/augopher/pseuds/captaintinymite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to "Long Way Down (In the Infernal Elevator)"</p><p>Stiles has been at this for centuries, either dragging or coaxing souls to their deaths in the water, but when he spies Derek, young and lonely on the banks of the river, he knows immediately that his soul is one he needs to obtain. His reasons for acquiring Derek, however, begin to change. Instead, he offers him peace and companionship.</p><p>Image Heavy- Images added 03/19/15</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Business of Acquisitions, the Sights Are Set On You

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning: Suicide  
> is referenced in this fic, but if you have read "Long Way Down (In the Infernal Elevator)," you know that both Derek and Stiles are employees in hell. Death is...temporary here.

With only his eyes above the surface of the murky water, Stiles watched the young man. Stiles had been moments away from abandoning this town, writing it off as hopeless when he’d first seen the young man several weeks ago, and at first sight of him decided to stick around and try to acquire him. If he had to guess, he’d say the man, well boy really, couldn’t have been much older than he had been so many years ago. Sixteen at the most. Dark haired with hazel eyes that held more secrets than his innocent face belied. More than that though, he was beautiful, and Stiles could not simply just leave without trying. He wanted to get to know him at the very least.   


On several occasions since that first glance, Stiles had watched him cry softly at the banks of the river. Some days he’d be there all day the way he was every day but would stay well into the night. His clothes, though not ragged, had been worn many days in a row. In fact, over the entire time Stiles had been observing him, he’d only seen the boy in two outfits.

_Yes, this one is perfect._

Stiles felt much happier about the suit he’d chosen, one he initially wrote off as too new to be effective. Clearly, he’d picked it for exactly this reason; he just hadn’t known it yet.

Today though, the young man did not stay as long as he often did, turning to head back into the village as dusk fell. Slipping beneath the water, Stiles swam towards shore, silent and undetected. He waited just below the surface, watching until the young man crested the top of the hill, before rising out of the water. He slunk over to the hollowed tree where he’d hidden his preserved suit when he’d arrived so many weeks ago.

o.

Strictly speaking, lore said he resided in the water, but that was only partly true. That was his domain yes, but not his preferred place to sleep. When he’d first become well, what he was now, he’d been too nervous to leave the security of the water, even for acquisitions. Now though, he was seasoned, a professional; he’d been around a long, long time. He had experience, and that experience had made him bold. 

In all those years, he’d never really let himself age, choosing to remain a wiser, more cunning version of himself at fifteen, when he’d last been of this world. No matter how many years passed, and by now many had, he saw no reason to change. Something about his youth enticed people made them more likely to trust him.

Quickly, for Stiles had to hurry so he could follow the young man, learn more about him, he scurried up the hill and made his way through town as quietly as he could, hiding in shadows, behind stables and carriages when he needed to. Luckily for him, the young man seemed to be in no hurry to go home, but definitely wanted to stay out of sight. At least that’s where Stiles assumed he was going. The route took him all the way through the town until finally the young man stopped at the burned out shell of what Stiles could see used to be a fairly large home. Checking his surroundings, the young man slipped inside.

Stiles peeked in where he could see the boy climbing up what remained of a collapsed staircase, pulling himself onto the floor above when the stairs would no longer reach. Perfect indeed. Not even bothering to check for witnesses (What did he say? Bold), Stiles squeezed inside through what used to be a window.

He’d only made it up the stairs halfway, when a board creaked beneath his weight. Stiles froze. Moments later the young man appeared at the hole in the floor above.

“What are you doing here? This is private property!”

Stiles put on his most innocent and coincidentally most charming face. He’d had this suit a while now; he knew how its face looked when he conveyed emotion. “Forgive me. I saw you at the waterfront. You are there most every day.”

The young man furrowed his brows. “You followed me? How dare you? Have I not given enough to this town, that now it sends its residents to follow the poor Hale orphan? The sin you all are convinced I committed, I swear to you, is not mine.”

“I assure you, I know nothing of what happened here. I wandered into the woods months ago on my travels and have not ventured into the village before this day.” Stiles laid the fear on thick, when in truth, there was little this kid could do to him.

“So you watch me? Is that not worse?”

“I wish only to offer friendship. I am alone in this world, as it sadly seems you are as well.”

“I do not believe you. You only wish to burn me alive the way they did. I cannot help what I am, and you all believe me to be a monster, an abomination.”

Stiles turned to leave, but threw a few words over his shoulder. “If I have not scared you too much, come to the woods in the morning. I will show you where I live, and perhaps you will see we are not so different, you and I.” Stiles smirked as he walked out the door.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Topside, he required no sleep, only choosing to do so if an acquisition required it. Though in his mind he kept his age that of what it had been when he was alive, Stiles had several centuries of charming people to their deaths under his belt. Sparing no time, he went to work in the dark, fashioning a little shelter from tree branches. His suit was not the only thing he stashed in the hollow log. It also contained a blanket and other items to add to the illusion. By morning, he had a dwelling that looked like it had been lived in for a while. He lay down to rest while he waited for the young man to show.

Sure enough, around the same time he always did, the boy appeared and took his usual place on his rock to watch the current drift by. Stiles emerged from his shelter and scurried over the fallen log that spanned the river. “Good Morning. How do you do?”

The young man looked across the river. “You spoke of hiding in the woods. Show me.”

Stiles beckoned him to follow, and once they were on the other bank, he led the boy to his shelter. “Alas, It is not luxurious, but it is mine. I have built it with my own hands.”

“This is your domicile?”

“One who resides in the charred remains of his familial home has no place to judge.” Stiles held out his hand. “I am called Stanisław, or if you should prefer, I also respond to Stiles. And you, Sir, what shall I call you?”

The young man shook his hand. “Derek.”

“How very nice to meet you, Derek.”

Derek gave the dwelling another look over. “Have you no family?”

“None.” This was true. He’d been alone even before all the years had passed. Being alone was how he wound up what he was in the first place. When you have no one, there is no one to miss you if you cannot cope with the loss.

For the next several minutes, Derek appeared to be feeling him out, seeing whether or not he could trust him. Eventually, he spoke. “Can you hunt?”

Could he hunt? Could he ever. “Yes.” Stiles pulled the bow and quiver from his dwelling. He’d snatched off a traveler months ago, and it had proven invaluable in keeping him fed.

“If you should manage to catch something that we could perhaps share, you may stay under my roof, what is left of it anyway. Do we have an agreement?”

“Indeed we do.”

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Hunting in exchange for a dry place to sleep became routine, and in turn they grew close. Stiles, breaking one of his own self-imposed rules, actually talked about himself in thinly veiled lies. While it was indeed true that his mother had died when he was very small, and his father had been killed in battle, he did not die in the most recent Jacobite Rebellion the way Stiles led Derek to believe. Derek did not need to know the truth, not yet, even though Stiles found lying to him quite painful. In truth, he’d broken more than one of his rules in trying to acquire Derek. He’d developed feelings for him, strong ones at that.

Still, neither of them had touched the deep topics quite yet, maybe too afraid on Derek’s part, or too difficult to disguise on Stiles’. Or perhaps too painful. Why would Derek want to talk about what happened to his family? Why would Stiles talk about how he died and was now a servant of the underworld, a collector of souls?

In truth, as horrific as that life sounded to the ignorant, he’d grown to enjoy what he did. Texts always made hell sound like for lack of a better word, hell, but it was more than that. Yes, souls suffered great torment, but not all of them, and even then not for eternity. Stiles found that many of his acquisitions he took involuntarily chose to suffer in hopes they could atone for sins not forgiven. Yet those who went with him willingly, seemed to embrace what was in store from them and accept the gracious offer much faster. Sadly, those were few and far in between.

Stiles, well in order to be what he was, he died in the water, but it was his choice. Still, he decided he deserved punishment, because it was his fault he was so alone in the first place. After his father never returned from war, he’d lived with his best friend and her mother. One day, at Stiles’ urging, the two of them went to explore a part of the woods they’d never ventured into before. Stiles returned; she didn’t. Her frozen body was discovered weeks later when the snow from that blizzard subsided. After that, he saw no point in living.

He knew ice broke easily when it was thin, and that night it was no exception.

In the dark, moonlight filtering in through a hole in the roof, Derek looked over at Stiles as he ate away at the rest of his meal of hare and wild greens. “They are all dead, and the fault is mine.”

Stiles stared at him. He’d not considered that the secrets in Derek’s eyes were a result of his guilt.

“My family was wealthy, quite so. The Argent family desired a merger of our families. So a marriage between one of them and myself was arranged. She was older than me, too old according to my mother, but they went forward with it. I, however, had no desire to marry this woman.” He sighed and wiped the tears away from his eyes. “I was in love with another, one of their servants.”

“Why did you not run away? In another town, no one would know she had been a servant.”

“You misunderstand. They discovered us kissing, and the things they called us were fallacies. I did not understand, I just knew that I loved him. Twas only a kiss, but instead of punishing me, and only me, feeling slighted, the Argent’s took retribution on my family and my love. They burned them all alive. My mother, fearing for my safety, had sent me away before then. I returned to nothing and no one. They are dead, and it is my fault. I do not have anything anymore to live for. Your companionship has been most agreeable, cherished even, but tis not enough to quell the ache in my heart. I no longer wish to continue this miserable existence, but I know that to put an end to it, is unnatural and a sin.”

No longer did Stiles see this as an attempt at an acquisition. He saw this as mercy, a way out of the pain, an act of love. “What if…what if I could offer you a way out, but to make that happen would require believing everything I tell you that follows and trusting me? Would you take it?”

Derek studied him for several minutes, using what little light the moon to study, Stiles’ face. “Will it hurt?”

“Yes.” Stiles licked his lips. “But only for a little while, and I will stay with you through it.”

“And after?”

Stiles took his hand. “Only if you want it to. After the dark, you will face a choice. One leads to pain, and the other to service.”

Derek hung on his every word. “Which do I choose?”

“I cannot tell you what choice to make. That is yours alone.”

He swallowed. “And if I should choose service, will I see you again? Or is our friendship fleeting?”

“I very much hope to see you again.” Suddenly, Stiles had the irresistible urge to kiss him and leaned forward giving Derek an out if he so desired. Their lips met, tentatively at first, but the apprehension gave way to firmer pressure, a kiss more curious, one of discovery. Stiles shuddered as he pulled away. “If you follow me to the woods, I will show you everything. I swear on my life, no harm will come to you unless you accept my offer,” he whispered, stroking Derek’s cheek with his thumb.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Out of sight of Derek, Stiles shed his suit and entered the water, swimming beneath the surface until he reached the shore. He exited slowly to give Derek time to flee as he suspected he would upon seeing his real form. However, to his surprise, Derek didn’t.

Derek sat down on the bank and reached for his hand. “Are you angel or demon?”

“Neither really. I am a malevolent spirit, I guess you could say. They call me a topielec, the spirit of a drowned person who cannot rest, and instead drags others to the same fate.”

“A spirit?” Derek blinked. “You’re a ghost?”

“In a way, yes.”

He gave Stiles’ hand a little squeeze. “When I asked you if it would hurt, and you said yes…did it hurt when you died?”

Stiles nodded. “Yes, but not for long.”

Derek beckoned him out of the water, and Stiles sat beside him. “So this, how you look right now, is how you really look?”

“Yes.”

Derek looked down at his fingers knotted in his lap. “Was everything you told me before, when we shared nighttime confidences, was it all a lie?”

“No. The when and where were changed, but the details were all true. My father did die in battle, in 1333 during the Polish-Teutonic war, and I did lose someone I cared about as a result of my actions two years later. I probably would have married her someday. I really was fifteen at the time of my death.”

Derek covered Stiles’ hand with his own. “Your death came by your own hand did it not?”

“Indeed. I drowned myself.”

He was quiet for a long while, staring up at the moon in silence, and Stiles thought for sure he’d lost his interest. Finally, Derek spoke. “You chose service, and for that you, what, bolster numbers?”

“If it should please you to look it that way, then yes.”

“If I choose the same path, will my service be the same?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. There are many positions to be filled”

He lay back on the shore, resting his head on his arms crossed behind his head. “Is it as horrible a place as they depict it in books?”

“I…do not feel that it is, and you will already have a companion. You would not be alone.”

Derek inhaled, sharp and deep. “Will I always look as young as I do now, or do I have a modicum of control over that?”

“You may choose. I only decide to stay like this because I can.”

Derek sat up and cupped Stiles’ chin. “Then we are in agreement.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you always this polite with your missions?”

“No.” Stiles covered Derek’s hand against his cheek with his own.

“But you are with me. Why?”

“I said before, I am fond-”

“So you said.” Derek paused. “Do you…do you love me?”

“To be in love is a feeling I never experienced before. I suppose you could describe how I feel in such terms.”

Derek leaned in as if he were going to kiss him, but Stiles pulled back. “Let me put on my suit.”

“No, I wish to kiss the real you.”

The sensation was quite different than their first kiss. This time, Stiles’ lips were cold, and Derek’s felt feverish in comparison, but he connected with it on a deeper level. Neither seemed in any hurry to break the kiss, and it was though they were alone in that moment forever.

Derek rested his forehead against Stiles’ cold and wet one. “I know you said the choice after the dark is mine to make. You want me to choose against torment though.” Stiles nodded. “Did you?”

“Not right away,” he whispered. “I would not… I do not recommend making that choice.”

“I understand. Right then. How does this work?”

Stiles stood and took Derek’s hand, leading him into the water, step by step until both their heads were underwater. As he promised, Stiles kept hold of Derek’s hand, eventually wrapping his arms around his waist when he sensed the young man’s fear. He waited for the moment he knew would come, when Derek would open his mouth and let in the dark.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Derek stood in front of a beast of a man, dressed in the finest clothes, those almost fit for a king. The man’s hand clutched a quill and scroll as he assessed him. “So you bring us another soul to torment, Stanisław? You really have a penchant for picking unworthy stock.”

Stiles cocked his head to the side. “I resent your implication, Naberios. Still your tongue and conduct your interview.”

As he walked past, Stiles gave Derek a gentle pat on the small of his back, almost as if to say, ‘do not worry.’

“Name?”

“Derek Hale.”

“And what will you have, countless years of torture in the hopes that one day your soul can ascend to heaven? Or an eternity of servitude?”

Without blinking, Derek replied, “Servitude.”

Taken aback, Naberios chuckled. “First soul you have brought us in eighty years to not try and purify their soul first.” He sassed Stiles in a mocking tone. “Fine, show him around. This one is under your charge until he is called for occupational assessment. I will notify the boss that you are back underground for the time being.”

When they were out of the gatekeeper’s line of sight, Stiles pulled him aside. How are you feeling?”

Derek inhaled. “Painless, except it is quite warm in here.”

“You really will get used to it. Where would you like to see first? This is level one, Purgatory. Each level has at least one city hub. The levels with multiple rings tend to have more.”

“Levels? Rings? As in those described by Dante?”

Stiles’ face lit up. “Exactly.”

 

Derek looked around at the countless demons and residents of hell going about their daily afterlives like anyone would above ground. Small demons clung to the hands of older and larger ones. “There are children here?”

“Demon children yes. It takes a lot for a human child to end up here. Usually, they are not much younger than I was. Culpability and awareness of their actions and all.”

“You may have a family here?”

He was sure that Stiles saw the anguished look on his face. “Do you regret your-”

Derek grabbed his hand. “No.” He swallowed hard. “Are there…a lot like me? The woman I was supposed to marry said I would burn here for that.”

Stiles took Derek’s face in his hands. “Contrary to what literature would have you believe, you do not find yourself in hell because of who you love. It requires grievous sin.” He kissed his forehead and took his hand. “Come, I will show you where I live. It requires a lift down a couple levels.”

As they walked, Derek continued to be in awe of his surroundings. Nothing he’d ever been taught prepared him to think of hell as a functioning society, a civilization with commerce and…was that a theatre? Stiles came to a stop in front of a large gated community. The sign out front read: Asphodel Meadows.

“I thought you said we required a trip down.”

Stiles wrapped his hands around the bars of the fence. “We do. I am going to live here someday. I have been saving my coin for three centuries now. I desire that one,” he pointed to a large home in the back, “the one on the shores of the Styx. I imagine the view of the light rising over the mountains is glorious. Living here is quite costly, but I am close. Maybe a hundred years left.” He looked over at Derek. “Do not look at me like that. You will find that time down here moves differently.”

Derek smiled at him. Demons and spirits could still have dreams down here. It amazed him.

Stiles kissed him, a little more feverish than the two they’d shared before the dark. “Let me show you my home, and you can stay there as long as you would like. I shall not even make you hunt to earn your keep.” He smirked at him, and they continued onward.

Whatever this strange journey, this new life in hell had in store for him, Derek felt one thing for certain. He wanted Stiles to be a part of it. 


End file.
